


A Waste of a Living

by quentintarrantino



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentintarrantino/pseuds/quentintarrantino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny’s understanding of Dean was that he fought hard for what was rightfully his, and it became very apparent to him now just what fell under that category.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Waste of a Living

The angel of the Lord was unimpressive at best, at least Benny had seen better. He was scruffy with a tarnished trenchcoat and didn’t like to blink all that often. Also his voice was annoying, Benny neither liked or trusted him. He didn’t speak often and when he did the information was nothing of his interest so that was a double strike. At least when it was just Dean he would keep him entertained. When he had first objected to the sidekick tagging along he had been ignored even though the angel himself had agreed.

“They will come after me and put you in danger.” he had told the Winchester who had set a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, I’m a big boy I think I can take it. You forget I’ve been surviving out here by myself all this time.” Dean had replied with a honest smile. It was all very touching but Benny wasn’t positive how he felt about having a walking target so close, he kept his mouth shut because he needed the human hopefully the angel died along the way.

He noticed the behavior shift when they were together. Dean walked slower so Benny took the front alone while he stuck close to Castiel, their shoulders touching as they walked but stayed in silence for nearly the whole time. The Winchester was extra careful with this one, and Benny was surprised, he honestly hadn’t thought Dean knew what careful meant but here he was easing the angel over a particularly hard rock to climb or placing a hand on his shoulder to ensure he didn’t fall. Castiel said nothing even though he was an angel and had the control to not make himself fall off a ledge. Benny hadn’t even known the angel’s name until day three, he hadn’t been paying attention and it was ‘Dean’s Angel’ in his head no matter what so who cared? 

It was also day three when they first attacked and Benny learned how far Dean would go to fight for what he believed was his and what ‘his’ entailed. Castiel had heard them before they did, his face looking panicked and Dean who was trying to enjoy his dinner noticed right away, standing up and grabbing his spear. “What is it Cas?” he asked, eyes narrowed. Benny sighed, standing as well simply because he’d rather not be attacked in the middle of a meal.

“They’re here.” the angel told them, and it must’ve looked like he was about to teleport away (Benny was so bad at reading signals) because Dean suddenly tugged him forward with a firm hand tangled in that trenchcoat. “Dean let me go and they will leave you alone.”

“You’re stupid if you think I’m letting you go now.” Dean spat, noises from the edge of the trees growing louder and the Winchester put the berating on hold, shoving the angel behind him and raising his spear menacingly. 

It was a Leviathan, just one but still a Leviathan. Benny had never fought one because he knew they couldn’t be killed. This one was relatively small but still hey fought like hell and never gave up until you were dead. Dean Winchester apparently never got the memo because with a fire in his eyes that looked positively feral he charged it. 

Benny didn’t think humans were capable of the expression on his face, he of course rushed to his side, looking over his shoulder to see Castiel watching with what could only be described as an anxious expression. It threw Dean against a tree and he groaned, shifting slightly as it rounded on him, grabbing his spear he struggled back to a standing position.

“You must be the human they are talking about.” the Levianthan stated. “We’ll enjoy eating you while we torture the angel.” 

“How about you go to hell!” Dean shouted, that hungry bloodthirsty look coming back as they plunged into battle again. Benny helped the best he could but ultimately it was the Winchester who separated the head from the body, his chest heaving and his face covered in their black goop. Looking back to where Castiel was as if to ensure he was still there Dean dropped his spear and picked up the head, tossing it into the bushes and dragging the body to sit beside him as he began eating again, glancing at Benny, confused. “Dude are you gonna eat that?”

That night Benny learned that Castiel was very much Dean’s and that Dean would kill anything that tried to change that. 

The angel was slow, and it slowed them down considerably, Benny didn’t like that but he kept his mouth shut, content to sulk about it. Dean never let Cas out of his sight, and the touching got worse, a hand on the arm or around the wrist. Like physical reassurance that they were both really there. It was disgusting to watch the eyes they made at each other and Benny was praying something killed the angel fast so Dean could get over it and get him out of purgatory. 

They stayed up late at night and he would catch bits and pieces of conversation or private scenes by the campfire, about a man named Sam or a guy called Kevin. They spoke frequently at night and he didn’t pay attention to it much. Benny was curious just how far back this angel and human went and his questions always seared the tip of his tongue whenever Castiel stepped away for a few to inspect the area or get water for them.

“So you and the angel.” he began one day as Dean was washing his shirt with some water they’d boiled.

The Winchester glanced up, suspicious. “Yeah me and the angel.” he replied. “What about me and the angel?” He turned slightly and Benny caught sight of the scar on his shoulder, the perfect handprint. 

“Did he give you that?” he asked, the human looked down at it momentarily before turning to scrub a little harder at the dirt in the fabric.

“I don’t see it as any of your business.” which of course was a yes. Benny had only heard stories about this, and of course any news that reached purgatory was old news but it seemed their sources were true. An angel that fell from heaven for a man he raised from hell. 

Dean Winchester, it would make sense it was them, who else could it have been? The perfect mark etched into the skin that would stay there forever. A claim staked if he’d ever seen it. He wanted to ask more questions but Castiel had come back and his eyes too fell on the mark, but with a fondness rather than bare desire for answers as Benny had. He scowled at the angel and went back to sharpening his knives. 

Day twenty five was the day that the angel was taken. Levianthans were hot on their trail and even Dean knew they couldn’t face ten. Instead they had run, they had traveled six miles off-route trying to loop and twist and turn off their path and they continued to find them. Dean had been helping pull the angel up a particularly muddy slope when they had found them. Castiel had gripped his hand tight, eyes wide.

“C’mon Cas.” Dean said. “Get your ass moving.” as the angel’s shoes failed to find purchase on the slippery ground. 

“Dean,” Castiel replied, his breathing going fast as they drew nearer.

“I said, get. Your. Ass. Moving.” the Winchester yelled at him, pulling as hard as he could and dragging the angel further up the hill, his face going red as Benny stood by, prepared to flee if the Leviathans overtook them. 

“I can’t. I want you to know I’m truly sorry.” Cas told him, eyes solemn. Benny didn’t know if angels could cry but he looked like he was sure going to try. 

Dean hesitated before he understood, his grip tightening. “Don’t do this, come on we still have time let’s go.” his voice was pleading. 

Castiel smiled and then let go, sliding on his stomach rather painfully back down the hill where they were waiting for him. Dean stared like his world had just fallen apart and they looked up and saw him standing and that’s when Benny grabbed him and began dragging him away as he fought to get to the angel. “I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU AND SEND YOU TO A PLACE YOU’LL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF FUCKING DAY!” Dean had screamed until he was hoarse, flailing against Benny and shouting curses at the Leviathan all the way. “CAS! CAS!”

“Shut up!” Benny had snarled at him and of course the Winchester only shouted louder as he was yanked away. 

“CASTIEL!”

And faintly he heard it. “DEAN! DEAN!” the voice was not the Castiel he knew, it was panicked and pained and scared. The angel was scared. 

When they reached a safe point to stop Dean fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He didn’t move for three hours, the calls of the angel having long died.

Benny at first thought he was mourning until hour two rolled around and he noticed Dean’s lips moving silently, hands now folded in his lap. He resisted the urge to scoff at the human. He was praying, praying for what? His precious angel? Did he think God could hear him?

Or maybe he was praying to his angel? Castiel could still hear his prayers if he alive. Dean’s lips were working furiously now, a few tears tracking through the blood and mud on his face as he furrowed his brow. He was, he was talking to Castiel, the angel of legend. The one who raised him from perdition as the tale went, how he gave it all up for a man broken beyond repair. 

Benny was never one for love stories.

When Dean was done he had quietly gone to sit beside his travel partner, looking off into the wilds a long time before speaking. “In how many days can we make it to the portal?” he asked.

“From here? Probably ten.”

“Make it five.” Dean said, his voice raspy like he’d been crying.

Benny nodded slowly, tearing a piece off of the carcass that he had cooked up for dinner. “We can start at sunrise.” he said. Dean didn’t say anything as he went to the other side of the clearing and curled up on the ground, his hand placed on his shoulder over the burn mark etched onto his skin underneath his jacket. 


End file.
